I see you
by MarcoLover16
Summary: AU Marco and Dylan are absolutely perfect. Paige has a new boyfriend and nothing, absolutely nothing, could go wrong. Obviously, life can never be too perfect. Can something terrible be good? Chapter 9 edited. It's slightly less confusing now!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I really am the stupidest human being alive, probably, for what I'm doing. Right now, my stress level is higher than the amount of water in the oceans. So…I finished every one of my stories, right? So…what do I do? I decide… "Hey, how about I start a new one because I just have so many ideas in my head and NOT enough stress, right?" Okay, so here I am. I really had to do it, people. This came to me…well, I don't really know how. The point is, I am really hungry and I got my very own laptop for Christmas and I am simply THRILLED. So, I'm a little hyper. Also, in this story, it's as though Marco and Dylan never broke up. It takes place in, like, the beginning of twelfth grade, (obviously, Marco's) and if it was going by the show, that'd be the beginning of season 5 as though they had never broken up. Okay. It starts off kind of slow, but it'll get better, I promise. Please review.

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Marco and Dylan were lying down on the basement couch of the Michalchuk house watching a movie. They had barely gotten any sleep the night before, so Dylan had to work to keep his eyes open long enough to even see what Marco had playing; not that it mattered because Marco was falling asleep ten minutes in as well.

It was the day before school at Degrassi was to start up again and Marco and Dylan weren't so happy about it. Of course, Marco was very excited and nervous, considering it was his very last year there, but he'd had Dylan to himself the entire summer and was anxious about him going back to school because he couldn't see him every day.

Last night, they felt, was their last night of true freedom to do whatever they wanted and Marco had wanted to stay up with him the entire night because he didn't know when they'd have another chance. He didn't even have to worry about telling his parents because they had left the week before for their last week of summer to visit Marco's Aunt Rosa. Marco was supposed to have gone too, but that obviously didn't happen.

"I'm determined," Marco said, yawning, "to not fall asleep."

"I'm determined…to wake up," said Dylan, not moving. Marco realized he'd been sleeping for a while.

He laughed. "Okay, then. Well, if you can go to sleep, so can I," he said, laying his head on Dylan's chest.

"Amen to that,"

Just as Marco and Dylan had gotten more comfortable and closer to each other, ready to fall asleep, an annoying voice decided that wasn't going to happen.

"Oh, boooys," called Paige from the middle of the staircase, amusement in her voice. "As Much as I really hate to break this moment, mom wants you to come upstairs and make an appearance.

"Why?" Dylan whispered, obviously planning on ignoring his mother's request.

"She misses you," she laughed. "She says she hasn't seen you all summer."

"She—"

"Dylan, don't fight, okay? Let's just go up, see your parents, and maybe they'll let us fall asleep in the living room," said Marco, too tired to refuse her.

Dylan sighed. "Fine, but I hope you're ready for a few lectures from my father on our relationship."

"Baby, I live with my father. I think that's prepared me for absolutely anything," he answered, dramatically.

"Marco!" squealed Mrs. Michalchuck, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"Mom, you saw him this morning," Dylan said, laughing at his mother's enthusiasm.

"It's okay, Dylan," Marco smiled at him over his mother's shoulder. "You can never get enough love."

"How about some lunch?" she suggested, setting out plates.

"You don't cook…" Dylan said, looking up at her in confusion.

"Dylan, shush. If Marco can cook so well, he doesn't need to know I have a problem. Besides, we have some pre-maid sandwiches in the fridge, sweetheart."

Dylan hid his face in his hands, sitting down at the large table in the dining room. It was well known that the Michalchuk family was quite wealthy. Marco knew that he definitely wasn't poor, but he did feel uncomfortable in the extravagant house that he was in. Considering Marco had been silent for a while, Dylan sensed there was something wrong. He took Marco's hand in his and squeezed it lightly.

"Would you like something to eat?" he whispered. "You alright?"

"Yeah, of course," Marco answered, leaning his head onto Dylan's shoulder. That was something he loved about being at their house: the freedom to love him.

Paige sat down across from Marco and Dylan. "Don't be fooled, Marco, we never sit down and have lunch like this."

Her mother playfully hit her on the head. "Why must we tell him all of our secrets?"

Marco laughed. "I love it here!"

"Oh, by the way, I met a guy," she said pretty nonchalantly.

"Oh?" voiced Marco, apparently not surprised.

"Yeah, I met him at the mall. He graduated last year from Degrassi. That's where I've been lately, hanging with him. I think we're kind of official now, so I just thought I'd tell you about him."

Dylan glared at her. "How do you know he's not lying to you?" he asked protectively.

She rolled her eyes at Marco and he laughed. "He had a yearbook, smart one," she said, laughing.

"Paige, you meet someone in a mall and--"

"Dylan!" Marco interrupted. "If he was going to hurt her, he would have already. They've been alone together plenty of times, I assume. Please, don't get overprotective."

"But--"

"Dylan," he let go of his hand. "I am serious," Marco said, a tone of warning in his voice.

"Alright, alright…" he smiled brightly, attempting to pull himself out of trouble. Marco rolled his eyes.

"Okay, be good. Anyways, Paige, tell me about this guy," he said, thoroughly interested.

"Well, his name is Mike, he's really cute, of course. Oh my gosh, Marco, you'd adore him. He's so sweet and funny. I know I've only known him for three weeks, but I think I'm in love," she sighed, love struck.

"And you're telling us this the day before school begins again?" asked Dylan.

"Well, mom wanted to meet him tonight, so he's coming over for dinner. Mom, can Marco please stay for dinner tonight?"

"Well, your father did want to see him again. Of course, you're welcome, Marco," she said sweetly, getting up to clean the dishes.

"I'd love to, thanks. That is, if you want me to stay, Dylan," he said, looking up at Dylan.

"No, go home," he laughed. "Yeah, I want to spend as much time with you as possible, baby. Stay. Besides, I'm going to need you to help me from murdering this boyfriend of hers."

When they were finished eating, Marco and Dylan went back downstairs, more awake than before. They got down off the last step, and Dylan unexpectedly grabbed him around the waist.

"Well, hello," he turned up to face him.

"Hi," he said back. Dylan took advantage of Marco's mouth being so close to his. He kissed him.

"I love you," he said, pulling away.

"I love you too," he answered. He put his small hands on top of Dylan's, leaning his back against Dylan's chest.

"I don't want to go back to school tomorrow. How about you come back to Degrassi??"

Dylan laughed. "Ohhh, not going to happen, babe."

Dylan led his unsteady boyfriend to the couch. "No," Marco whined.

"What?" Dylan asked, confused.

"If I sit on the couch, I'll get tired again," he said, yawning.

"Good." Dylan smiled. "You really need the sleep," he said softly, running his hand across Marco's face. "I'll wake you for dinner. Don't worry about it."

"Okay," he agreed, grudgingly. "But only just for a little while, Dylan. Don't get let me sleep for too long, okay?"

"Alright," he whispered, letting Marco fall asleep in his arms.

………………………………………………………………………………..

"Hey, Marco…" Dylan said softly, shaking his boyfriend gently.

"What?" he answered, half-awake.

"My sister's boyfriend is here. We're having dinner."

"Come on, I'll help you upstairs."

A/N: Okay, first chapter was obviously just sort of an introduction to show you where they are and how their life is and everything. The next chapter will be more…uh…interesting. Yay! You'll get to meet Mike! Alright, anyways, I will definitely be able to update this soon despite my busy schedule because I have EVIL family members here!!!! I like to avoid them as much as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, it's New Year's Day and, sadly, it's starting off badly in my house. It's just been a really bad day and week and I'm very upset. Also, I've gotten warning from my S.S. teacher that this week will be "the worst week of my life." I hate her. She's also the one who told me my writing's not smooth and in an essay, you need to have a lot of sentences in the introduction. She makes things up too. My parents are English teachers and I'm not an idiot. I'm also sick of hearing the, "You're in an honors class" crap. Oh, and if anyone is still reading this as I drone on about my miserable couple of days, the guy that I have liked f.o.r.e.v.e.r. just found out and doesn't think I'm "girlfriend material". Hope you enjoy! Please review. Oh, and I'm having some issues in my life about Christian-gay-haters. As a lot of you know, I'm a catholic myself, and they're upsetting me very very much :(

"So, Mike," started Paige's father awkwardly, "You've been seeing my daughter?"

Dylan peeked over at him every once and a while to keep an eye on how close he was to Paige. Marco told him many times that he had to stop, but sneaking a look or two couldn't hurt anyone, could it?

"Yes, sir, I have," he answered confidently, though he showed some fear in his eyes. He was not oblivious to the slightly cold tone in Mr. Michalchuk's voice and Dylan's glared. "She means quite a lot to me."

"I'm sure she does," her father acknowledged. "How long have you two been together?" he asked curiously.

"About a month," he replied.

"About?" Dylan asked. "You don't even know?"

"Dylan," Marco warned.

"A month," he confirmed. "I swear, a month."

"Well, how do I know you're not just using her for something?" Dylan asked, suspicious.

Marco had given up on trying to stop him. "Oh, is it so hard to believe, Dylan, that he actually likes me?" she asked, offended.

"Well, maybe he's just trying to get you to have sex with him. I know guys, Paige, and--"

"Okay!" shouted Mrs. Michalchuk, joining the argument. "That's quite enough of this accusing. Here we have a nice young man who is simply not doing anything wrong to prove that he is out to get Paige or anything. If you, Dylan, can't handle that, please leave."

He didn't move or even say another word. She took his silence as an apology. "That's good," she said softly. "Now, Mike, dear, would you like some dessert?"

He nodded. "Sure, ma'am," he looked to see if anyone had a problem with his answer, "I'd love some."

…………………………………………………………………………………….

"So, we're back down here again? Do you want to watch TV or something?" Dylan asked.

"Whatever," he muttered in reply, sitting down on the couch they had almost owned for each other that summer.

Dylan turned the television on, sighed, and put his arm around Marco. "What's up?" he asked, confused.

He simply rolled his eyes, not in the mood, and watched whatever mindless show they were playing. He didn't remove his boyfriend's arm, but he didn't acknowledge it, or him, either.

"Marco--"

"Dylan, you wanted to watch television and I am doing that for you, so shh. I'm fine, okay, babe?"

"No, you're mad at me. I'm not stupid," he said, slightly hurt.

"Really? You're not?" he asked, not expecting an answer to his question. He turned his head back to the television.

"Okay," Dylan put his hands in the air, "I understand that I'm not going to get an answer, but this is my house…"

"Are you asking me to leave?" he turned to him again.

"No, that's—that's not what I'm saying, okay? Can we talk?" he pleaded.

"Okay, sure, Dylan. Why don't you tell me why I'm annoyed with you?"

Dylan shrugged. "I'm…an ass…oh, and stupid too. That's usually the cause of our fights."

"That was ridiculous at dinner," he answered.

"Oh, that's what this is about?" he put his face in his hands, sighing.

"You embarrassed your poor sister, your mother, and me. Why did you have to say that? And why didn't you listen to me when I warned you beforehand how to act?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry," he took Marco's hands in his. "I am, baby. I freaked, okay? I got protective. I only do it because I care about her," he said, hoping the caring part would get him somewhere.

Marco smiled a bit, and he was about to cave, but then he frowned again slightly. "You know guys, huh? Are they always simply out for sex? Does that include me? Or, oh…I understand that you consider me a girl, right?"

"I never said that, Marco. You know that's not true. Besides, if you're saying I only want you for sex…please, you know that's insane because I love you."

"So, why can't you believe Mike loves, or, at least cares about, your sister?" he answered.

Dylan sighed. "Okay," he said, giving up the fight that he knew was a lost cause. "I'm sorry. You're right. I love you."

Marco smiled. Dylan had been trained to know that with those three sentences he could get away with murder with Marco.

"Alright," he said, after a while. "If you ever do that again, though…I swear, Dylan…just leave--"

"Hey," said Paige, coming down the stairs, alone, they noticed.

"Hey, I was going to apologize to your boyfriend, but he's gone?" Dylan said, honestly glad he didn't have to.

"Yes, most likely scared away," she rolled her eyes, but smiled. "He heard your argument, though, so no apologies are needed, he said."

"You were listening?" Marco asked, amused. He switched positions so that he was lying, once again, in Dylan's arms.

She nodded. "Of course."

"Alright, Dylan, I have to get going," he said, sad that the night was over…also, the summer.

"No," he pulled Marco back down to the couch, showering him in kisses. "You can't go."

"Stop," Marco laughed. "I have to go. Paige, rescue me?" he asked, not as desperate as he tried to sound.

"Afraid I can't, sweetheart," she answered, laughing. "I'm kind of amused."

"Alright, alright!" Marco raised his hands. "I'll do anything. Please let me go!"

"I want to take you somewhere Friday, okay? You know, celebrate the first week of school ending. Plus, I have something to talk about with you."

Paige saw this as her cue to leave, so she turned around and headed up the stairs. "So, talk," Marco said.

"Not now," Dylan said, letting him finally get up. "Friday."

"Alright, bye," he leaned in to kiss his boyfriend.

"Oh," Marco said, remembering something. "I'm coming out to my dad tomorrow."

"Wait, what?" Dylan followed him quickly up the stairs. Marco laughed as he was grabbed, for the tenth time that night, by his waist.

"You heard me," he answered, catching his breath. "I think it's time. Tomorrow, after school, I'm telling my dad and….you'll be at your absolutely wonderful university," he frowned.

Dylan kissed him. "Call me right after. Promise?"

Marco nodded. "And before and during, probably."

Dylan laughed. "Love you," he said softly, inches away from his face.

"I love you too. Good luck tomorrow."

"You're the one who I should be wishing luck too. So, good luck! Bye. I hope you're not mad anymore."

Marco laughed and shut the door behind him. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

………………………………………………………………………………….

And, indeed, it was a very long day. Marco felt, by third period, that everything had gone wrong already. Considering it was the first day, nothing that drastic had happened, really, but it was like everywhere he went, his father was there. Obviously, not physically, but emotionally, there was nothing stopping him from tearing Marco apart.

Why, he wondered as he was jumping off the bus and into his driveway, had he ever said he'd do this?

Because it was right, his conscious told him. He couldn't pretend anymore. He sighed. He'd been so afraid to tell his mother the year before, but it had ended better than he would have ever expected, so maybe he didn't have to worry about it, but the constant thought that he did have certain things to fear was still there.

He walked into the living room, surprised to see his father home already. It was a sign. He had to tell him.

"Hey…Pa," he said softly, clapping his hands together nervously. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he smiled, turning the television off in the background. "How was your first day?" he asked.

"It was okay…long, but okay, I guess. Dad, umm…there's something important we need to discuss."

He sat down next to his father on the couch, thinking it wasn't completely too late to have change his mind. Really, he was only seventeen, he didn't need to be out to his father yet, but…on the other hand, (A/N: There is no other hand! Hehe, a little bit of Fiddler On the Roof, my all-time favorite musical. Anyways, back to the story!) he had known since he was fourteen, so maybe it was time. On the other hand, there—

"Okay, Marco, what was it?" he asked, only slightly impatient.

"Right, dad…this is complicated. Well, I suppose it won't sound that complicated, but…"

Marco felt his throat closing. Though, that could have been his imagination, he still knew it was getting harder and harder to speak.

"Dad, remember when I was five? I was, like, super sensitive?" he asked.

"You're not now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Marco went on like he'd heard no interruption.

"Well, I broke the lamp in here and I was so afraid that you were going to hate me forever and you'd never speak to me again, right?" he asked, slightly laughing at his own prior stupidity.

"Oh, I remember that, yes. I had to go explain to you that whole story about how it wasn't your fault, and even if it was, you'd always be my son and I'd always love you," he smiled at the memory. He tilted his head to the side. "Why bring that up?" he asked, curious.

"Well, a lamp is something smaller, but I believe it's along the same lines as this." He took a deep breath. "Pa, I'm gay."

Actually, that was easier than he'd thought. Of course, for the first moment, he'd wanted to shove the foul words back into his mouth, but it was too late. He tried to read his father's expression. It wasn't easy.

"Dad?" he said, after a moment.

"Uh…" he cleared his throat, "my room," said his father softly.

"But…dad," he was frustrated. "Are you—you said you would ALWAYS love me. I never realized forever was so damned quick."

"I do, of course," his father said, turning around.

"You—you do?" he asked, remotely surprised, but definitely happy.

"Of course I do, but…the question is, do you, Marco, love me? If you did, I don't think you'd do this," he sighed, sadly, closing his door.

Marco stared at his father's locked door. He hadn't expected to be accused of not loving him. He'd definitely assumed it was going to be the other way around. He turned around, not bothering to feel upset or angry, he sort of felt…odd…numb, maybe.

He walked into his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. He slowly made his way to his bed and picked up his cell phone.

"Hey, Dylan," he said quietly. He didn't really want to be heard talking on the phone as though nothing was wrong.

"Oh, Marco! Hey, baby…what happened?" he asked happily. Typical of him.

Marco felt safe to cry now. He knew it could have gone worse, but he needed his boyfriend's comfort more than ever.

"It didn't go that well. There was no yelling, surprisingly. It was just bad," he said, letting his tears fall finally, his voice breaking.

"Oh, Marco, baby…I'm so sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked sympathetically.

"No," he whispered. "Dylan, I…you're not going to like what I'm about to say," he said, now completely hysterical.

"Shh, Marco, it's okay."

"No, it's not. Listen….I can't…I'm really bad at trying to make this sound good, so I'm just going to say it. I'm--"

"What is it?" Dylan asked, confused.

"I'm breaking up with you."

A/N: Please review. I hope you like it. The reviews make me so happy and…for those of you who are reading, but aren't doing it, I promise it doesn't hurt one little bit! Lol. Anyways, thanks to you all of you that do!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: OKAY, I just want to get one thing (may seem unimportant right now, but it kind of will be in the story) out. I have nothing against people who do have sex before marriage because on my other site, I got yelled at from people who thought I did, I just personally don't want to do it. That's just me. So, people in my story obviously won't always have the same feelings, understand? Yeah. This sounds stupid, I know, but I just don't want to go through what I did on another site with another story. Yeah…anyways, lol, moving on.

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"Wh-what?" Dylan asked, shocked. He didn't really know what to say. What had he done wrong??

"I'm sorry," Marco cried even more.

"But, Friday…" Dylan went on, not truly believing this was happening."

"You promised me we could go out Friday. I had something planned. Baby, I'm sorry. You're right. I love you." Right about what? Nothing, of course, but Dylan was just saying that because he knew he'd be forgiven.

"Please," Dylan begged. Marco could hear his voice cracking. "I'm sorry. You're right. I love you," he said softly, desperate to change whatever he felt he had done wrong.

"Don't be sorry," Marco whispered. "I'm sorry enough for the both of us." He wanted to tell Dylan he loved him, but it sounded too depressing, like an ending note before his own death. He couldn't do it, so he decided to simply hang up. He turned off his cell phone, put it n the closet and swore to himself he wouldn't take it out. Dylan could never be forgotten, but he could be avoided.

"Marco!" he heard his mother's voice from the kitchen. He ignored her. He didn't think he even had the power to open his mouth.

"Marco," she repeated, this time peeking her head through his door. "What's wrong?" she asked, seeing his tears.

"Everything," he answered, falling against the headboard.

"Marco, you're kind of making me nervous," said his worried mother.

"I've just lost two people that mean the world to me. I think that's about it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go to sleep," he said, turning away.

"Marco, it's only--"

"I know it's only three! I don't care! I'm tired!" he yelled, starting to tear up again. She put her hands up in defense and turned out the door, closing it behind her.

Marco fell asleep at about five and slept until nine. He knew when he woke up, it had been a bad idea to fall asleep so early. He'd never sleep through the night. His mother had enough good sense not to wake him for dinner, but…he was really hungry.

He had been lying down from the moment he'd waken and he was sick of trying to force himself to sleep. He got up from his uncomfortable position and moved to the closet. He grabbed a chair to help him up and grabbed his cell phone from its almost unreachable place. (He'd done that for a reason.)

He turned it on and saw that there were forty-three missed calls from Dylan. He had also left sixteen messages. Marco supposed he'd run out of things to apologize for after sixteen. He sighed, not bothering to listen to the messages, knowing it would soften him. He put the phone back away, turning it off.

He walked back over to his bed to think. He loved Dylan. He really did, but why? Out of all the kids at Degrassi to be gay, why was it Marco? It was like, let's pick the worst possible already insecure teenager with extremely homophobic parents and throw this little burden on him. Oh, no, he wasn't angry, but couldn't his father believe he hadn't done it on purpose? He didn't have to act like Marco didn't love his own father and he honestly believed Marco was trying to rebel.

He wasn't, though! That's why he'd tried to hard to pretend it wasn't true. That is why he hadn't told him. He was trying to respect his father's ill feelings on the matter. His religion also posed a problem too. He had been questioned many times by the kids at church who knew of his sexuality. Why was it horrible? Also, why couldn't the people who were this way control it? Marco decided if he couldn't control his feelings, he'd hide them for himself and the world, but it didn't help.

However, this time he'd try to fulfill what he couldn't do back in tenth grade. He wasn't going to be gay or straight. He was done with all relationships. All he had to do was avoid the love of his life. It wouldn't be too hard.

………………………………………………………………………………..

Marco got up the next morning, taking care not to forget anything important. He knew that the day was going to be difficult. He'd had Dylan by his side since the tenth grade. Though he hadn't started dating him until June of that year, he'd still always been able to talk to him about almost anything and knew Dylan would never judge him.

He arrived at school and slowly walked to his locker, giving anyone a glare if they even dared to look in his direction. It was his warning that basically said he wasn't in the mood for conversation. He was deep in thought. Dylan wasn't perfect. In fact, he was far from it. They fought whenever they had a chance, really. There were some times when he wanted to smash Dylan's head through a wall. When he thought about it, maybe it wouldn't be too hard to get over him.

But then…it became much harder when he thought about Dylan's desperate attempts to make things better when he knew he had messed up after a fight. Also, whenever Marco had been having a bad day, Dylan always knew how to make him feel better. He…

Marco had to stop thinking about it. It was killing him! He just wanted to get through the school day and maybe he'd think more about it when he got home.

"Marco?" He had wanted to avoid that voice almost as much as Dylan's. She tapped him on the shoulder and there was no way he could pretend she wasn't there.

"Uh…hi," he said, turning around.

"Hi?" she said, dangerously softly. "Hi? How about 'Paige, I'll explain what's going on'. How about that?" she said, angry.

He sighed. "Paige, look, I'm sorry, okay? I just…don't want to talk about this. At all," he answered, trying to close the subject.

"Marco, it's not really okay," she said, walking close behind him as they traveled to their first class. "I'd really like to know why you did this. My brother had me on the phone every minute he wasn't leaving you voicemails. He was crying, Marco. Dylan doesn't cry. What did you do to him?" she asked.

"I want to be left alone!" he yelled, turning to her, ignoring the looks he was being given.

She sighed. "Fine, I understand." She walked in through the door into the classroom. "We will talk about this later, though."

Oh, he was so looking forward to that moment.

"Oh my gosh," said Hazel softly at the long lunch table when Ellie and Marco sat down.

"What?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This Snapple has soooo many calories," she said, disapproving of the drink in her hand.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "You don't want it, pass it over. It's just calling my name! Many calories equal much flavor."

Hazel gladly handed it over, wishing she hadn't spent her money on it. Ellie smiled at her new beverage.

"Hey, Marco, want some?" she asked, seeing he had nothing in his hands. No one knew yet about what had happened with he and Dylan, besides Paige, of course. Normally, the second something out of the ordinary happened with Dylan, he'd call Ellie, but he didn't have the strength to talk about the situation. He didn't even want to believe it was real.

"No, thanks," he answered.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. She moved closer to him. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," said Paige loudly. She had joined the group at the table and decided she had to announce her presence. She looked at him expectantly. "Why did you break-up with him?" she asked, after he refused to speak.

Her question had brought everyone's focus onto Marco. Paige sat down across from him, now looking not quite so angry. "Hon, I'm just worried about you. Please tell me what happened."

Jimmy and Craig also looked up in surprise at the new information. Marco sighed, knowing he'd have to tell them something. The truth? Too complicated.

"Well, Dylan and I just weren't working out…" he felt a lump in his throat from pain and guilt, most likely. He was lying to them if he said things weren't going well. In fact, they'd been almost perfect.

"And I came out to my dad," he figured he'd focus on the other part of his problems. "He says he loves me, but apparently, I don't love him enough to change myself," Marco rolled his eyes. "I'm done with trying to impress him." Though even as he said it, he knew that was one of the worst lies he'd told yet.

Ellie put her hand over his in a gesture of comfort and support. "I'm here," she said to him. She knew it was all she could really do for him.

Paige, however, was still focused on what he had said earlier. "What do you mean you were having problems? I don' remember there being any sort of problem when you left my house the night before yesterday. You two were all…in love," she finished for a lack of better words. "He said he has no idea what he did wrong. He's been begging me to ask you."

Marco shook his head. "Nothing," he replied.

"Paige," Ellie said calmly, "leave him alone. This is hard."

Hazel nodded in their direction. "Yeah, Paige, let Marco deal." She then returned to her conversation with Jimmy and Craig.

Paige was about to open her mouth in her defense when her phone rang. "Oh," she said, reading the caller ID. "Hey, Mike, hold on a second." She picked up her tray of food, hugged Marco in a slight apology, and called over her shoulder, "I'll be eating outside."

At that moment, nobody worried about her departure. Marco was truly happy for her. She and Mike talked…non-stop. Marco had even caught her trying to have a whispered conversation with him on her phone behind her textbook in math class. Unfortunately for her, Mr. Armstrong had also caught this.

Although his relationship with Dylan was over, (all his fault) he still was not bitter about Paige's happiness. He was truly happy for her.

He sat in silence all through lunch, half-listening to the conversations going on around him between Hazel and Jimmy, Craig and Ellie, (he was working on them) and occasionally even Ellie trying to get him to eat. Honestly, he was almost glad to go to his next class.

He walked in to his history class, not really paying attention, but simply following the familiar route of his feet. It was only a few minutes after the teacher had started his lecture on the Soviet Union when his cell phone went off.

He had been so sure he had left it in his closet. Sometimes, his own mind refused to listen to him. He gave a quick apology to his teacher, who brushed it off, knowing these things didn't often occur with Marco, and turned it off. Though he really didn't want to, he knew he had to find out who had called.

After the bell had rung, signaling dismissal, Marco walked past his friends without even saying good-bye, and knew they'd understand. He walked to his locker, taking time with his books and saw the call had come from, was it obvious? Dylan.

He sighed. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to call him back. Marco dialed the familiar, and now slightly painful, numbers to reach Dylan. He answered it on the first ring. He obviously had it close by.

"Marco!" he answered.

"H-hi," Marco was overcome by Dylan's reaction. He knew it had been a stupid idea to call him, especially when they were both so emotional. To prevent himself from begging for his boyfriend back, he chose anger as a reaction.

"Why did you call me when you knew I was in school?" he asked, hoping his anger sounded sincere.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," he answered automatically. Apparently, Dylan was too upset to go back at him. He was going to simply apologize. This, if anything, made him angrier. At least, if Dylan fought with him, he could be angry at him, but if Dylan was going to just agree with everything he said, how could he keep up the act?"

"Dylan, where were you? Where are you? Aren't you usually in classes about this time, as well," he demanded furiously.

Dylan easily cowered at the tone of Marco's voice. Not matter how strong or brave and fearless he was believed to be, Marco was the one person who could always make him back down.

"I didn't go," he answered, hoping this answer was sufficient.

"Why not?" Marco questioned, grabbing his bag and walking out of the school.

"I thought it'd be obvious. I'm, like, as corny as it sounds, I feel sick because of this."

Marco rolled his eyes. He was determined to keep his anger, though he knew there was no way he could be angry at anyone but himself.

"Yeah, alright," he answered.

"It's true," Dylan insisted. "Look, I understand…that…. obviously, you did this for a reason, but can I please just—can I please have that reason. That's all I want from you: your reason."

Marco sighed, starting his walk home. Outside he seemed angry and ready to murder Dylan, but inside all he could think of was being held by said boy. All he wanted was to tell him how much he loved him, but if he did, Dylan would not understand. But, how, how could he keep letting Dylan believe he was doing something wrong? He was horrible, that's how. He was a horrible person who needed to blame everyone else for this stupidity.

"No, Dylan, you—you can't have that reason. I have to go. I'm turning my phone off, just so you're aware."

"Wait!" Dylan said, desperate. "Just…I love you, okay? Don't answer. I know you don't want to, but I just wanted you to know that."

Marco breathed in deeply. "I do," he answered, shutting the phone off.

………………………………………………………………………….

Two weeks had passed since his break-up with Dylan. Marco had hoped that it would get easier, but it seemed that things were only falling into routine.

For example, Get up: think about Dylan, pass his parents: remember why he really couldn't have Dylan, Go to school: wonder why he was even bothering to live normal life without Dylan, Walk home alone: wish that he wasn't avoiding his friends…because of missing Dylan. Basically, no activity was there that didn't have something to do with the golden haired boy.

The most horrible thing was, no one around him seemed to notice that he wasn't Marco anymore. He was…the Marco without Dylan. All his friends saw, though, was their old friend Marco Del Rossi. The only exception was Ellie and, though he knew she noticed, she didn't say a word. Marco found it odd that he kept wishing she would. He never wanted to be noticed, but now he felt like he was…just there and no one was really seeing him. He didn't like it.

Paige…well, Paige didn't really have time to notice or not notice his behavior because she was never around. He had actually wanted to speak to her the night before and…her boyfriend answered her cell. He automatically hung up. He didn't want to deal with her…uh, receptionist.

He decided it was time to get his friends back. He was going to stop being "Marco without Dylan," and just be "Marco" again. He'd done it before he met Dylan. He could easily do it again…right?

"Hey, Paige," he said, smiling for the first time in two weeks. He sat down next to her at the lunch table.

She seemed extremely surprised by his attitude. "Hi, hon," she answered. "How are you today?"

"I'm good," he answered. "Where's everyone?" he asked, looking at the empty table.

She shrugged. "Who cares? So, notice anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He took a look at her. He looked her whole body over quickly, making sure it didn't look to everyone else in the cafeteria that he was staring at her breasts, realizing that she was wearing a new shirt. He smiled. "You had to test me?" he asked, laughing. "I love the blouse, Paige. You pull it off perfectly."

"I love you," she said happily, hugging him. "Oh, speaking of love…I'm in LOVE!"

He laughed, looking at the many people who had turned to stare at them due to Paige's outburst. He waved them off. "With me?" he teased.

"Oh, of course," she said dramatically. "How did you know? Woe is me, I can never have you!" she laughed. "No, silly, with Mike. I mean…I really really love him. I've never felt this way about anyone and…I'm not just saying that," she said, sighing.

"Aww, that's great, Paige," he said seriously. He really wanted to get the word 'love' out of his head for a while.

"Yeah," she answered, turning away, noticing many of their friends were starting to sit down. Ellie went to sit down on the other side of Marco, but after noticing he was there, started to go over to the other side. He smiled brightly at her and she gave a sigh of relief and sat down right there.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "but I just didn't want to sit here if you were…moody," she said, explaining her plans to walk away.

"It's okay. I understand. Meet," he threw his arms open wide in an elaborate gesture, "Marco Del Rossi!"

She laughed. "Okay, you're back. I get it."

"Hey, umm…Marco," said Paige quietly. He turned to her in confusion. Her mood had changed quite quickly. She looked very uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered automatically. "I'm just—I'll just…"

"Paige…what's wrong?" Marco asked again, becoming really concerned. She laughed at his tone.

"Oh, honey, I'm not dying. I was just going to go to the bathroom," she answered.

She quickly got up from the table, leaving her uneaten tray alone and wasted. Craig eyed her brownie greedily. Ellie laughed and handed it over.

"She never eats them," she muttered.

Marco looked worriedly at her empty chair. Ellie put her hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Marco, she went to the bathroom," she said.

He still looked confused, "She goes every day, but if it's nothing, why would she feel the need to tell me?" he asked.

Ellie looked slightly worried too, but she tried very hard not to show it. "You're worrying because Paige had to use the bathroom and told you beforehand. You're going crazy," she joked, hoping it would make him feel better.

"Yeah, I am," he replied, noticing the vibrating in his pocket. He said every morning he was going to turn off his phone, but…the back of his mind never let him. However, he knew enough not to answer Dylan's calls anymore. It was too painful. He chose to worry more about seemingly stupid things like…Paige staying in the bathroom for the entire lunch period.

A/N: I hope you all liked this one. It took a lot of thought because I have plans for future chapters and I didn't want to give it all away in just one. I tried to make this chapter work just right. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, I'm deadly ill here, so I'm writing the next chapter lol. I hope this chapter gets more reviews than the last one. It's pretty short, I know, but I ended it where I thought it should be ended.

Dylan's Point of View

Dylan would forget all about everything Marco was currently doing to him if it would end soon. Dylan had no idea why the break-up happened, but if Marco would take him back, he'd assume full responsibility for it all if he had to. Marco was his baby, his whole world. He needed him back.

The worst part of their break-up was that Dylan had been sure everything was great. Had Marco really been unhappy? Was Dylan really that blind? He asked himself these questions every spare moment of his day, and there actually weren't many because, though Dylan hadn't taken refuge in his dorm at the beginning of the break-up, he later decided it'd be more productive for him to push himself into school and hockey. That way, maybe he'd forget about Marco.

Unfortunately, it wasn't really working that well. How was it that a simple thing like hockey practice could have so much to do with his…well, now ex-boyfriend? Right, because Dylan remembered every game Marco would come to. He remembered the first time Marco had ever come actually…well, aside from the time he didn't make it because of his bashing. His first real game that he saw was a few weeks after they'd officially gotten together.

……………………………………………………………………….

'Oh, come on, Marco, it's not like I'm going to make you play. Besides you were all for it…that one time you didn't get there,' he laughed/

'Yes, well, that was when it was cool outside. Now, it's…July, and it's hot and--"

'And we'll be inside,' Dylan interrupted, 'so why worry?'

'Fine,' he sighed, secretly agreeing whole-heartedly from the beginning. 'But, then, you and I have to do something I want to do later. Okay?'

Dylan nodded, kissing his cheek. 'Of course.'

'I'll be watching you,' Marco said, laughing at Dylan's change in expression.

'Well, then I'll lose this game. I won't be able to concentrate, knowing that.'

Marco smiled, in hopes to raise his spirits. 'Win for me?' he said, playfully. He couldn't have cared less if Dylan won or lost. Hell, he admitted to himself, he probably wouldn't even know what happened if it weren't for the screaming fans around him. He wasn't really a hockey fan. He was more of a…Dylan fan.

'For you…mmm, I don't know. I'm just kidding. Anything for you, babe,' he answered, going to play his game.

Marco laughed, 'Don't be too confident or you'll fall on your face,'

…………………………………………………………………………………

After that game, they'd been inseparable. He couldn't really say what had happened that day that made it so, but all he knew was that he needed Marco there, wherever he was, to cheer him on. And he wasn't there anymore to do it.

"Hey," Paige said, sitting herself down next to Marco in history sixth period.

"Mhmm,' he answered, "Wait, what?" he turned to her, coming out of his daze.

She laughed tiredly, "I said hello, calm down. You don't need to answer any difficult questions. How are you?" she asked.

"I thought I didn't have to answer any difficult questions," he said, raising a brow.

"True," she mumbled, more to her notebook than him.

"So, can I ask you something?" Marco asked, looking serious.

She nodded, though before he could speak, their instructor had arrived. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. Paige just smiled slightly in his direction.

It seemed that Marco hadn't learned anything in a month. Well, he supposed he'd been doing terribly in all his classes since the you-know-what, but he wasn't the type of guy to let his grades fall.

It wasn't that he wasn't paying attention. Well, he wasn't intentionally not paying attention, anyway. It was just that…well, every time the teacher wanted to talk about World War II or the Cold War…it's just…Dylan just always seemed more interesting. Marco really couldn't help it and he felt that the teacher should definitely understand that. (A/N: lol.)

When the bell rang, Marco couldn't help but feel that it had been another wasted period. He grabbed his books and headed to the door before his teacher could have a much-desired conversation with him. Paige followed quickly.

Marco and Paige walked to lunch together, talking animatedly. Marco had to stop at his locker, so Paige followed. He had told her that she could go off by herself and he'd be there in a moment, but she politely refused.

He shoved everything in, too stressed out to be his neat self and clean everything. He smiled over at her, closing the locker door carefully.

"I wanted to ask you last period…are you okay, Paige?" he asked, concerned.

"Who died and made you my brother?" she asked, moody. "Oh, wait…my brother was the one who died…wasn't he? You should know since you committed the hateful murder--"

"Paige!" Marco interrupted. "I DON'T want to talk about him, alright? And, besides, I'm worried about you. That's all. I'm not trying to be 'your brother'."

"I'm sorry," she said, with her head to her temple. "I'm just not feeling that great." She sighed.

"It's okay," he answered, putting his arm over her shoulder. "That's it?" he asked, unsure.

"Well, maybe not…all," she answered, being honest with him.

"You're my best friend, right?" she asked, hopeful.

"I was promoted!" he said excitedly.

"And I can tell you anything, right?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

"Of course," he became worried again. They were across the hallway from the cafeteria. She stopped walking, pulling him closer to her.

"Marco, I—I—this is between us, okay?" He nodded quickly. "I think I'm pregnant," she whispered.

They never made it across the hallway that day for lunch. Instead, Marco and Paige chose to head off to the second floor library to talk more privately.

"Paige, you're not serious," Marco said cautiously, once they were sitting at a table in the back away from the nosy librarian.

"Oh, yeah," said Paige, pretending to think about it, "I forgot to mention that I'm lying. Of course, I'm serious! I don't," tears had begun to form in her eyes, as she spoke, "know what to do," she finished.

"Okay," Marco whispered, trying to calm her.

"You're the only one I told! I didn't even take a test. I'm just…I feel it," she cried.

"It's okay. After school, you and I will…I don't know, can we even…we'll go to Ms. Suave…okay? Mr. Simpson said she has stuff like that," said Marco.

"You've talked to Mr. Simpson about pregnancy?" she asked, smiling slightly for the first time, Marco noticed, in days.

"Laugh all you want. It came from something else, okay? Paige, we--" he looked at her uncomfortably, "--we have to tell your parents."

"I will when I know for sure," she replied. Marco would have protested, but she was scared enough. He wasn't going to make it any worse for her.

"Marco, I'm scared," she whispered, hugging her friend for dear life.

"I know, Paige," he answered. Suddenly, nothing that was going on in his life mattered anymore. All that mattered was Paige and her obvious fear.

After school was over, Paige and Marco walked home together. Actually, he was more like holding her up due to her wandering mind. "Paige," he said, crossing the street by his own house.

She turned to him, eyebrow raised. "Do you want to do this at my house?"

She nodded, anxious to just get it over with. Marco cleared his throat. "Well, I…you know these things don't always…they're more accurate after you've waited a few….how long has it been since…" he let his sentences ring in the air.

"It was a week ago," she answered, turning away from his eyes. He sighed.

"Let's go inside," he pushed open the front door. It felt to them like their walk to death as they slowly walked through the first hallway by Marco's bedroom. They stopped at his parents' doorway.

"Hey, dad," he called.

His father looked up from his newspaper, brow raised in question. "Can Paige stay a few hours?" She had decided, with either outcome, she'd rather be with him.

He and his father had reached a point in their relationship where they would speak to each other only when necessary. If they did have a casual conversation, it had to be simply about sports or…food.

"Go ahead," his father answered, turning back to his reading. Marco sighed, deciding to deal with that problem at another time.

"Go into the bathroom, I guess," he watched her walk into the room, staring at her feet in embarrassment. She turned back to him.

"You'll be in your room?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. She closed the door, and he closed his own, collapsing on the bed tiredly. He found it hard to believe that in the room right next to him, his friend was finding out something that would change the rest of her life. He was praying for her.

He decided, to avoid thinking of it, he'd count the tiles on his ugly ceiling for a few dreadful moments. "One, two, three, four, five, six…" It wasn't really helping; he was still worried.

"Marco," came Paige's voice from the doorway. She pulled her whole body in, expressionless. Marco figured it could mean nothing good.

"It's…well…I don't know…I never actually thought about how it would feel to know…"

"No," Marco replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

She only nodded, closing her eyes in shame. "Marco," she didn't say another word. She just let his name ring out in the silence.

She closed the gap between him and hugged him tightly, letting out her emotions into his shoulder. She cried more than she ever thought she could and, Marco, knowing he couldn't change what happened, held her against him, rubbing her back soothingly.

"I will be here for you, Paige. No matter what, I'm here."

She nodded, though he knew it wasn't enough. She quickly wiped her tears away and he smiled at her, as much as he could. "Don't stress too much. I know that's terrible for me to ask that of you, but if you get too stressed out, you'll…you can hurt the you-know-what," he said softly.

"I'll try," she answered, looking at his window, not him, "but I really can't fathom that there's a baby inside of me. I just can't."

He laughed. "I understand."

"I'm not trying to avoid the talk or the situation, but do you have anything good to eat? I'm realllly hungry,"

"Well, that came out of no where," he said, shocked. "Yeah, let's get you something good."

A/N: I know some of you suspected it! Lol. I had a hard time when I replied to your reviews not saying, "Yes! That's what happens!" Well, anyway, I hope that those of you who didn't guess were surprised, (perhaps, pleasantly). Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When Marco arrived in first period, Paige wasn't there. It worried him slightly because she was usually already waiting for him ten minutes before he got to school. He played with his hands nervously, but sighed in relief when she walked through the door.

"Late, Miss. Michalchuk," said Mr. Simpson, annoyed. She shrugged in response, taking her seat next to Marco.

"Sorry," she answered his unasked question, "I had to wait for the vomiting to subside. My mom tried to make me stay home, but I'm here, as you can see."

Marco nodded sympathetically. "Paige, you know you'll--"

"Oh, I'll tell them," she interrupted, "but I think I should tell Mike first."

"Mike!" Marco had completely forgotten the father of the child.

"Marco, Paige, I'm sure you conversation is quite intriguing, but we all don't need to here it. Focus on me, please," said Mr. Simpson.

Marco nodded at his teacher, while pulling out a sheet of paper. He wrote:

:What do you think Mike will say…or do?:

Paige quickly wrote back: I really don' t know: It was then that Paige decided she had enough on her plate without failing school, so she began to pay attention.

"Can you do me a favor?" Paige asked, walking to her next class with Marco before he had to meet Ellie.

"Sure, anything," he answered, without thinking.

"I want you to be the one who tells Dylan for me. He'd do anything to make you happy. Tell him to not kill me or Mike, he'd listen to you; you know he would.

Marco sighed. What else could he do? He said he'd do anything, so he was pretty much stuck. When he arrived in Social Studies, he immediately asked the teacher for a pass to leave for the bathroom. She, knowing Marco would never do anything wrong, allowed him to.

He pushed open the door, walked over to the open window, and pulled out his phone.

When it came to Marco's calls, Dylan always answered on the first ring. "Hey," he said, surprised.

"You may be surprised by my call, but you'll be more shocked at the news," Marco said quickly.

"What?" Dylan asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Meet me outside the school in the front right after the day ends."

Dylan was silent for a while. Marco could tell he had been hoping the conversation would involve them. Then, Dylan sighed. "Is it really important?" he asked.

"Yes, trust me," he replied.

"I'll be there," he hung up quickly.

Marco and Dylan would definitely have to talk about a lot more than her pregnancy. He knew that's probably why Paige had asked him to be the one to tell him.

He ran back to class before the suspicious teacher sent a student out looking for him.

…………………………………………………………………………….

True to his word, Dylan was right there waiting for him when Marco walked down the steps. His first reaction, upon seeing him, was the desire to hug him. He just wanted to be as close to Dylan as possible, but he knew that would be wrong under the situations. It would only confuse Dylan more.

Dylan had his eyebrow raised as he waited for Marco to say something. He tried not to be impatient with him, but he did have to drive a long way over, and would have to drive a long way back, so he didn't want to be sent away with something like a 'never mind.'

Dylan cleared his throat. "You want to talk somewhere else?"

"OH!" Marco exclaimed. "Oh, right, of course…we'll…talk…"

Dylan laughed. "Well, could you start?"

Marco smiled. He loved Dylan's laugh. No matter what was going on, it could…

"Oh, god…" he said aloud to himself. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Dylan asked, leaning against his car in amusement, a slight smile on his face. He was glad that Marco wasn't glaring at him. He actually looked kind of…well, like nothing had happened.

"Laughing!" he yelled, telling Dylan it should have been obvious. "Don't…do that…. it makes me," he looked around to see if any other students were watching; they didn't seem to care. "Feel," he finished.

Dylan looked more confused than ever. "It makes you 'feel', hmm? Oh, lord, we absolutely CANNOT have that. Honey, what are you even talking about?" he asked, laughing again.

Marco groaned at the sound. "Can we just go to The Dot or something? Just because," he warned him with his eyes, "we need to talk about your sister and…I am rather hungry."

Dylan pulled open the door of his car, allowing Marco to sit. "It's on me," he said, smiling.

Forget the laugh. Just the SMILE was driving Marco insane.

Marco had to turn to him with a sigh. "I don't want you to pay for me, Dylan because it's not a date…"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he simply couldn't figure Marco out right now.

Marco and Dylan arrived at The Dot Grill only a few minutes later. Dylan held the door open, waiting for Marco to walk through. Marco crossed his arms and shook his head. Dylan smirked in his direction.

"You know I hate when you do that," he said, pouting. Marco had told Dylan on countless occasions that it made him feel like some phony rich boy or…. "Girlfriend" when he did that. Also, Marco had a serious issue with being treated as though he was dependant on one person.

"Fine," Dylan answered, closing the door. He wasn't angry. He just thought Marco was insane some of the time.

They sat together at a booth towards the back of the restaurant, hoping to avoid all people they knew that might (in Marco's opinion) develop ideas. Dylan thought he was over the insecurities, but he supposed not.

Dylan ordered them something to eat after Marco had said he honestly didn't care. Dylan then decided they had to talk about whatever was bothering him.

"Marco?" he questioned. "Why am I here?"

Marco sighed, putting his heads in his hands mumbling something completely incoherent.

"I'm sorry; I didn't quite hear you," Dylan said, moving closer.

Marco looked up. "Do not," he warned, "freak out."

"I won't," Dylan answered, growing more anxious by the second.

"Um…." Marco thought about the best way to tell him. Every little approach seemed wrong. "Well…" he tried stalling. He even thought about going to talk to a waiter to change his food order. No. Stalling was wrong. He always made that mistake. He took a deep breath.

"Dylan…it's about Paige."

"Oh," his facial expression changed. "What's going on? Is she alright or--"

"She's pregnant," he said it. That was all there was to it. Nooooo problem, right?

"She's…what?" Dylan asked quietly.

"Please…. you promised you'd be calm…" Marco pleaded.

"Yeah, I promised you a lot of things. I never followed any of them, right? Oh…. wait, no…. I did. I did everything you ever asked me to. I screwed up time and time again, but I always made it better. So, if once in my life I'm going to break a promise to you, you'll have to learn to deal with it," he answered, letting all his pain and anger out as he spoke.

"Oh, you act like I've told a million lies, Dylan. I never intentionally hurt you--"

"Then why," Dylan interrupted, "aren't we together? Answer me that…please," Marco saw there were tears in his blue eyes.

"No," Marco shook his head, trying to rid himself of his own tears, blinking insanely. "Don't do this," he whispered, close to break down.

"Don't do what?" Dylan screamed, not caring what anyone else thought of him. "Tell me what I did wrong, and I'll stop doing it! Was it my fault, Marco? Can you—can you tell me that, please?" he begged, coming close to a break down as well.

"Dylan, this isn't about us! It's about Paige," he tried to reason.

"Fuck that," Dylan answered, without a thought. Marco was actually surprised by his language. Dylan usually wasn't one to curse like that. Marco didn't like it because it made his anger seem more real.

"I can't talk about this," Marco answered, putting his hand on Dylan's forearm. It was meant to calm him, but it just made things worse. Dylan ripped his arm out of Marco's grasp.

"Damnit, Marco, you can talk about it, and you WILL. All I ever wanted to do was make you happy…I thought you were…I'm so sorry if I did something wrong, but I can't figure it out! All I want is for you to tell me!"

"Dylan, you didn't do anything wrong!" Marco screamed right back. He couldn't take it anymore. Dylan was breaking him. The uncomfortable waiter set their food down and left quite quickly, hoping their argument would end.

"Then why did you leave me?" Dylan asked, tears finally falling.

"Because I'm a terrible person," Marco answered, without joking. That was really the only answer he could come up with.

"No, you're not…I love you, Marco."

"You shouldn't!" he yelled again. "I'm not…I'm not who my parents want me to be or even who I want me to be, so how the hell can I be who you want me to be?"

Dylan was shocked by the words. How could Marco ever hate himself for who he was? Everyone else saw a beautiful person inside and out…well, mostly everyone, including Dylan. How could Marco doubt himself like that? More importantly, how could he think Dylan wanted him to change?

"If I…if I'm with you, Dylan, I'm going to be gay…but if I'm single, I don't have to have a sexuality," Marco said, finally being honest. "I can't love a guy, Dylan."

Marco's words stung more than any knife could. How…why…this couldn't be happening. Marco was letting himself be drawn in by his father's words, the homophobes at school…. he was starting to believe it all, and he was running from the only people who were trying to comfort him.

Dylan could have yelled, but he decided to be calm with him. Marco needed to relax. Dylan had thought they were done with step 1 in accepting, but apparently, Marco faked his way through that.

"Marco, you don't fall in love with a sexuality," he laughed, "or a gender. Why does it matter so much? Am I that horrible? If you hate yourself for being gay, you must hate me too."

"No!" Marco said. "No, I could never hate you, Dylan, but you should hate me. Not because I'm gay, but because of what I'm doing to you."

Marco handed him some money to pay for the food he didn't even eat. He got up to walk out of The Dot. Dylan followed him.

"Marco!" he called out, once they got to the car.

Marco decided he was going to walk home. "Yeah?" he asked, not really wanting to hear what Dylan had to say.

"I'm actually going to be an Uncle?" he asked.

Marco raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah…. congratulations, by the way."

A/N: I hope you liked it! Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I really hope to get some more reviews. I'm not really good at saying, "I'll update when I get reviews" because I can't stop myself from updating. I really can't, so all I'm going to say is it would make me very happy if I get some more reviews. However, I am always happy with the reviewers who review each and every chapter. I thank you for that.

"Say it again, Paige," said Marco softly, not really paying too much attention to the situation at hand. He did want to help her, but the events from the afternoon before kept replaying in his mind.

"Mike, I'm pregnant," she said confidently.

"Good," he recognized her efforts. "Let's just hope it has the same affect when you really speak to him."

"Oh, I can't do this!" she fell down onto the couch, her head falling into Marco's lap. He brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Yes, you can," he told her, smiling as much as he could force.

"So, Dylan was actually cool about it?" she asked, still surprised.

"Well, sort of. He really wanted to talk about us the whole time. I think he's not really acknowledging it. When it comes time to have the baby, he'll probably be more aware. Have you decided what you're going to do?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Well, no, but I really do want to keep it. I just don't know if that's practical."

"Well, like I said, I'll help no matter what. If you do keep it, I'm always around to baby-sit," he said, trying to help her or make her smile. Honestly, the thought of a baby kind of excited him. Of course, he wouldn't be the poor one actually having the child.

"Yeah, I'll think about it more. I'm leaving now. Wish me luck," she sat up, kissed his cheek, and put a hand on her stomach. "Me? A mother? Can you imagine?"

He nodded. "Tell me how it goes with Mike, okay?"

"For sure," she answered, nodding quickly. She walked out the door, leaving Marco alone in her basement to his own thoughts.

Marco walked up the stairs into the kitchen, hoping he'd be left alone, but when he saw that Mrs. Michalchuk was already in there, he realized that was not likely.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, not in the mood to really talk. "I was just talking to Paige before she left and--"

"Marco," she laughed, pulling herself up from her stool. "Don't be sorry, honey," she ceased his apologies.

"Where did Paige go?" she asked, flipping the cordless phone in her right hand back to her left. "I was just about ready to order something for dinner…"

"Oh, umm, she went to see Mike," he felt guilty, even though he knew he wasn't lying to her.

She smiled. "I should have known. Did she say when she'd be back?" she asked.

Marco shook his head. It seemed odd to him that Mrs. Michalchuk simply had not a clue where her daughter was because Paige hadn't bothered to tell her, and her mother wasn't the least bit concerned. Marco would have had to explain where he'd be going, who would be there, and why. He'd also probably have to call when he got there and if there were any changes, he'd have to call again. Paige's mother; however, didn't seem to mind at all.

"Well, would you like to stay for dinner, honey? Paige should definitely be home by the time it arrives. It's the least I can do since she abandoned you," suggested Mrs. Michalchuk, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Marco laughed. "That'd be wonderful. Let me just go call my mother," he headed down to the basement to do just that.

As her mother had predicted, Paige had arrived just before dinner with her boyfriend trailing loyally behind. Mrs. Michalchuk smiled up at the two of them as she went upstairs to her bedroom. Marco tried to read their faces, but it was almost impossible. He raised an eyebrow in Paige's direction as if it would help him figure it out. She simply shrugged and sat down on the living room couch next to Mike.

There was quite an awkward silence filling the room. Marco looked from Paige to Mike and repeated the process almost five times before anything was said.

Paige sighed. "I know what you're going to ask, Marco. Mike is being very supportive," she said, leaning her head onto his shoulder. Mike was still silent and looked completely pale, but he put his arm around his girlfriend in a gesture of comfort.

"Do you know what you're going to do?" Marco asked. Paige frowned in confusion.

"Well, yes, and no. I want to keep it and raise it, but I'm not sure if that's practical and I'm terrified. Mike says he'll go through it with me, but--"

"We will," Mike interrupted, speaking for the first time that night.

"What if something happens, and we break up?" Paige asked, without paying attention to her volume. Marco gestured with his hands for her to keep it down.

"We won't," Mike argued, "unless you suddenly decide to dump me, in which case, I'll still help out with the baby I helped to create."

"And what if," Paige said, turning away from him, and Marco saw she wanted to cry again, "you give up on this. You can leave…I'm stuck."

Marco sensed this was a conversation that they needed to have alone, which was why he was completely thankful when the doorbell rang a moment later, signaling that there was food.

The first half of dinner went mostly well, but when there wasn't much food left to be eaten, conversation started, and things got messy.

"Marco, honey, have you spoken to my son lately?" asked Mrs. Michalchuk, "Because…I heard from Paige he came in a day or two ago and didn't even see me, but she said you called him in and…I don't really know what's going on."

Paige looked down at her plate, whether out of shame or a coming dread of future conversations, Marco didn't know.

"And, anyway, for some reason, he told me to make sure I personally let you know that he loves you," she said, apparently not seeing that anything was wrong.

"Excuse me a minute," said Paige, running to the bathroom.

Mike put his head in his hands after sharing a concerned look with Marco. Obviously, she just had to use the bathroom for normal purposes because she returned a moment later looking completely fine…except for that look of fear again.

"I assume we shouldn't be talking about Dylan?" said Mrs. Michalchuk as she stood to clear everyone's plates. She walked over to the kitchen (A/N: we don't eat in the kitchen in my house, we have an 'eating room' or 'dining room', so don't get confused if you eat in your kitchen lol.) with the plates and as much silverware as she could carry.

"No, mom," called Paige. Marco figured she thought that by yelling it out quickly, she'd make it easier. He thought it was a bad idea.

"Because we have to talk about my being pregnant," she said bluntly.

Maybe Paige had made a mistake and maybe her mother had made one by carrying all those plates at once because, at that moment, everything came crashing down onto the ground.

"Wh—what are you….Paige…?" said Mrs. Michalchuk. She didn't really expect an answer. She just needed something to say.

"Umm…maybe I should go," Marco mumbled to Paige. She shook her head furiously.

"Please don't," she whispered.

Mike nodded in Marco's direction. He didn't need to be left alone with the Michalchuks, especially since he'd had a bad experience with the males in the family.

"Okay," he whispered back, sitting back down.

Mrs. Michalchuk walked back into the room, calming herself with a deep breath. "Honey…" she said, letting the word hang in the silent air.

When Paige responded only by looking down at the table, Mrs. Michalchuk burst into tears. "Sweetheart, no…you're not…you can't be…really?"

Paige only nodded, wiping away her own tears. Mike wanted to hug her, but thought better of it. He didn't need to remind Paige's mother who did this to her.

Mrs. Michalchuk hugged her daughter tightly, stroking her hair affectionately. "Shh, my baby, everything will be okay," she soothed.

Paige just cried into her mother's shirt, wanting it all to be a dream. After a few minutes of this, Paige detached herself from her supportive mother and hung onto Mike. "Mom, I'm sorry," she said.

"Honey…I'm sorrier," she answered. "I'd like to say I'll help you through this and make it better, but in the end, it's going to be just as tough. I'm here for you if you need anything, of course."

"And…dad?" Paige asked, concerned about how he would take the news.

Her mother shrugged. "Lord only knows what we're going to do about him…"

A/N: I know it was pretty short, but the next chapter should be better. Please review. I love you all!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm currently reading "A Straight Tale" by angel919, if you haven't read it, please do; it's amazing. Anyways, I have midterms this week, (meaning, January 23, 24th, 25th, and 26th. Today's the 23rd) and the bad part is, it's worth a lot, and I have to study, but the good part is, I'm home by…like, 9:30 in the morning and have the whole day to myself, with no parents, no brothers, and the ability to just…type this. It's awesome. There was this robbery yesterday by my house and the people weren't yet caught, so I'm a little scared because I keep hearing noises! I think it's my cats, though lol. Anyways, I've talked enough! There's some good action this chapter :)

"I'm more of an man than you'll ever be, and more of a woman than you'll ever get…" -Rent

The Giver. It read the title in bright yellow letters on a sleek black book. It also held the face of an old man. Dylan had heard great things about the book, mainly from his reading boyfriend. Though he knew it was getting harder and harder to believe Marco was coming back to him, he still refused to refer to Marco as his ex.

He read the title again, this time actually picking up the book from its place on the shelf, turning it over to read the summary written on the back. It didn't make much sense. He supposed it would if he read it. He sighed.

"Alright, this is the one thing left in my room brought by him, so I might as well read it."

Dylan wasn't much of a reader, but he convinced himself that Marco wanted him to read he damn book, so it really couldn't hurt much. He had only read a chapter when his annoying roommate decided to drunkenly enter.

"Hey, Dyl," he said, holding tightly onto the doorknob to keep himself standing.

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Jake, get yourself as drunk as you please, but let me read my book!"

"Reading?" James asked, perplexed. "Why would you," he collapsed onto this bed, laughing, "waste your eyes?"

"Boyfriend stuff," he answered. "Don't ask." Dylan turned to look at his companion, but saw he had already fallen asleep. He groaned in annoyance.

He WANTED Jake to question him. In his sober state, he would have. He honestly wanted people to ask him what was wrong. Most of all, he wanted people to understand that when he said he didn't want to talk about it, he really did. His anger he showed to those who asked questions was usually to hide his actual desire for it.

So, he sat on his bed, determined to finish the book. He knew it was unlikely, but he needed to tell Marco of his latest accomplishment. It'd be a way of possibly talking with him, Dylan realized. Yes, he was slowly going crazy.

It was around four-thirty in the morning when he was finally a page away from being done. He felt Marco would be so proud of him for staying through the whole book. He actually found it interesting too. He was still wide-awake, despite the fact that he'd had no sleep, when his phone rang. He wondered who would possibly be calling at that hour, and his optimistic side desperately hoped it was Marco.

"Hello," he answered.

"It's your loving sister…" Paige said, not sure what to say. Since Marco had given him the news, she'd been afraid to call.

"Oh…what do you want?" he asked, not the least bit interested in what she had to say, honestly, unless it was about Marco.

"I want you…" she took a deep breath, "to be there when I tell daddy," she said.

He almost laughed. "Oh? For what? Moral support?" he asked, supposing that wasn't what she'd had in mind when she called him.

"No, that's why Marco's going to be there," she answered, without thinking. "Damnit," she sighed. "Well, it's out. Anyways, look, can you just forget that Marco's going to be there? I just want you to become because you're my brother…and you acted surprisingly okay with the whole baby thing."

Dylan sat for a moment, too tired to take in all the information. His mind finally jumped back to her first statement. "Marco will be there?"

"Yes," she replied. "He's agreed to help me through this pregnancy."

"You're actually going through with it?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course, Dylan! What, did you expect I'd have an abortion?! You know I don't believe in that…"

Dylan sighed. "It's almost five in the morning. I've been up all night. I am not thinking straight and--"

"Why would you ever think straight?" she laughed.

"Oh, how clever," he said, annoyed. "Look, Paige…this whole pregnancy thing…I always told you I didn't want to know if you were having sex as long as you used protection. I thought you were smarter than that."

"I'm sorry!" she yelled. "Is that what you want me to say? I'm sorry! There's nothing I can do about it now. I knew it was too good to be true that you'd just get over all this!"

She sighed. "Look, I don't want to start an argument. There's going to be a dinner tomorrow. Mom asked Marco to come over, and I decided it would be a good time to tell him, okay? I also thought it'd be a good chance for you and Marco to talk things over."

"When you say tomorrow, you mean tonight, right?" he asked.

"Umm, yes, I hate asking you to miss class, but--"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "I barely ever go anymore," he sighed.

"Dylan, be a good student. Go to every class you can, and get your boyfriend back." On that note, she hung up.

"Well," he said to the quiet room. "At least she's on my side."

Dylan decided, if he was going to attend classes that day before heading home, he'd have to get some sleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Pa?" Marco called, awaiting his father's answer. He had searched all around the house looking for said man. As if in answer to his billion calls, his father walked in through the front door.

"Hey," he said, slightly annoyed. "Where were you? I've been looking everywhere…"

His father raised an eyebrow. "I get home at four. It is," he checked his watch, "just a few minutes after. Did the house burn down, Marco. Relax."

Marco sighed, watching his father walk around the kitchen, fixing himself a snack. "Sorry, I just…wondered," came Marco's soft reply.

His father simply ignored him, going about his business. Marco sometimes wondered why he tried so hard to get his father to leave him alone, when he seemed to want attention whenever he didn't have it.

"Dad?" he said again, not expecting an answer.

"Mhmm?" said Mr. Del Rossi, sitting down on the large couch in the living room.

"I just wanted…" Strangely, this is what had been happening quite frequently since he'd come out to his father. He desperately wanted a conversation, so he'd try desperately to get his father to pay attention to what he wanted to say. Then he realized, he had nothing to talk about in the first place.

"Well, I…" he paused, trying to think of something.

"Yes, Marco?" his father asked again, his patience disappearing slowly.

"Oh, well, I…" The doorbell ringing saved poor Marco from having to come up with some lame excuse. One had been, "Just wanted to see how your day was, dad," and others were just as terrible.

"I'll get that!" he said quickly, quite thankful for the escape.

However, after he opened the door, he thought he might have preferred talking with his father.

"Dylan?" Marco stared. He wasn't sure if he was completely surprised. He'd been expecting, and maybe even in his hysterical state, hoping, that he would come to see him at some point without Marco's request to talk about his sister or something, but for some reason, as he stood there, everything changed.

"That's me, sweetheart," Dylan answered, with much more confidence than he actually had.

Marco stared at him, his head turned to one side in thought. He had to decide if he'd rather talk to his dad or argue with Dylan. Neither one sounded too promising, though he was mostly siding with the latter.

"Well, can I come in?" he asked, gesturing to the room Marco was standing in. Marco sighed.

"I suppose," he moved over in the doorway to let Dylan enter.

"Listen, can we talk before…well, tonight when Paige announces her news. I know there's bound to be tension or…"

Marco turned down the hallway toward his room, gesturing for Dylan to follow. "Who is it, Marco?" his father asked from the couch.

"It's Dylan. You know, Paige's brother?" He didn't wait for his father's answer. He closed his bedroom door, and began obsessively fixing the items on his desk, determined to avoid the nearing conversation at all costs.

"Marco," Dylan called out his name weakly. He was getting a little tired of whatever game they seemed to be playing.

Marco simply ignored him, pretending he wasn't there, but at the same time making it obvious he was aware that Dylan stood behind him.

"Marco, please," Dylan sighed. "You said we could talk," he pleaded.

"I don't…" Marco started, his voice breaking.

"Marco," Dylan turned Marco around to face him. His face was covered in tears and he continued to just silently cry as emotions came over Dylan. He hugged Marco as though their lives depended on it, running his hands over the younger boy's back. He didn't know what to say, but he simply whispered to him that everything would be all right. Marco just held on tighter, trying to be just let the tears stop.

"Dylan…" Marco said, his face still nestled into Dylan's shoulder, with no signs of letting go of him.

"Yeah," Dylan whispered, desperate to hear him say something.

"I don't…I don't know what to do," he said, shaking. Dylan knew he was probably going to cry again.

"Baby, what are you even talking about?" Dylan asked, pulling away, which forced Marco to let go. He looked Marco in the eyes. "Tell me what we're doing here," he demanded.

"What do you mean 'we'? It's my house!" Marco retorted, the tears finally ceasing.

"You know what I'm talking about, Marco! Our relationship!" Dylan yelled, not paying any mind to Marco's father a few doors away.

"We.Don't.Have.One!" Marco screamed back. He, too, it seemed, didn't care either to be quiet.

Dylan closed his eyes, possibly trying to erase the sentence from his memory. Then, he laughed. "Oh, I see."

Marco; however, did not think laughing was a good choice. "And just what, may I ask, is so funny?" he questioned.

"Nothing," Dylan answered innocently. "It's just obvious to me now that you're terrified."

"I am not scared," he denied. "What of?"

"Oh, deny it all you want to, babe. You are so scared. And, you know what, I can understand why, but--"

"What are you talking about?" Marco interrupted.

Dylan simply ignored him. "—but I'm here to help you get over that fear, but if you don't want my help, just say it. Say it, and I'm done trying, Marco. I'll leave you all alone. Or, does that thought scare you too?"

"I am not afraid of anything," Marco responded.

"Except our relationship," said Dylan. "Admit it. You are scared to be in love with me, Marco. I don't know why, exactly, but…"

" I am not afraid of anything," Marco simply repeated.

Dylan nodded. "Then, prove it."

Marco didn't stop to think of the consequences, or what this decision would do to the rest of his week, month, year, or even night. He just grabbed Dylan, pulled him down and kissed him. He kissed him strongly, and anyone could have mistaken it for a desired kiss, but no, Marco was simply doing it to, as Dylan said, 'prove it'.

He pulled away, leaving Dylan blinking and slightly shocked. "Well," Dylan said, "where does this leave us?" he asked.

"On the way to your house for dinner," Marco answered, slipping on his shoes. He looked over at Dylan who was clearly waiting for a different answer. "Oh, in our relationship…?" Dylan nodded eagerly. Marco sighed. "The same place we were ten minutes before you showed up," he answered.

Dylan gave a scream of frustration, kicking the door shut behind them. He'd thought he'd finally one the game, but Marco must have switched his pieces when he wasn't looking because he just took about five steps backwards.

The ride in Dylan's car was quiet, not even the radio was playing. It was abnormal for them. Usually, they had music playing loudly while they argued or talked pleasantly over it. The car arguments, as they were called, were not that drastic. Normally, they were over bands or stupid things like that. If they were to have a serious argument, for some reason, it was never held in the car. It was almost like Marco planned them that way. Dylan wouldn't have been surprised if he did.

But this time, the car was silent, and Dylan couldn't think of anyway to change it. He just stuck with the uncomfortable situation, awaiting a worse one when they arrived home. Dylan parked the car, and the two walked through the front door. He found his mother at the table, already setting everything up.

"Hi, honey," she smiled when she saw him. "Oh, and Marco, been seeing you a lot the past couple of weeks, huh?"

He nodded at her. "So, Mrs. Michalchuk…" he looked around for any sign for Paige or her father.

"Paige is upstairs, honey," she turned to Dylan, "you father will be home shortly."

They both nodded, going off to find Paige. The two had still not spoken a word to each other since the kiss in the bedroom.

"Hey, Marco!" said Paige when they opened the door. Dylan watched in amusement as she hugged him, acting as though they didn't see each other everyday. "Dyl's here too!" Again, he laughed at her.

"You told me to come, Paige. Don't act surprised."

"Sorry, I'm just a bit…I don't know, I guess the nerves are making me excited. Does that make sense?" she asked.

"No," Marco and Dylan answered at the same time. They stared at her, so they didn't have to look at each other.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. So, I'm nervous," she informed them.

Marco looked at her curiously. It was interesting how almost a month had gone by, yet she still could get by as normal. No one had school had even noticed. Hazel had been told, of course, but that was it. She was still pretending nothing was wrong, and Marco knew he'd soon have to let her know she would…well, eventually, it would become harder and harder to hide it as time went on. Though, he figured she knew that. She just seemed pretty…calm and uncaring.

"Would you all please come down?" Mrs. Michalchuk called from the stairs.

Dylan begged for Paige to allow him to help her down the stairs. He was going from barely acknowledging her pregnancy, to worrying constantly she was going to hurt herself. Apparently, he realized now there was a baby in there, something Paige apparently had yet to understand.

Paige fended off Dylan's concerns, and ran into the dinette. Her father was at the table already. He smiled at his two children and Marco as he put down their food.

"Everything looks good except the potatoes," he told them. "Be careful. You never know with these places; they could be artificial."

Dylan laughed. "Yes, well, we've had enough experience in this family with take-out to know what's real and what's not. It's mom's food you have to worry about. Then we have to worry about how much of it is edible," he said, passing everything he received to Marco.

Marco looked at him curiously. Was Dylan going to just pass up food? It was very unlike him. He decided that someone else would voice his or her opinion to Dylan, so he didn't have to worry about it.

Paige looked like she wasn't eating much either. However, Marco assumed she had a better reason, like fear of her father… or simply throwing it all up. She had been doing that quite frequently.

"Hey, daddy…" Paige said, leaning back in her chair.

Her mother knew of Paige's plan to tell him at the table, considering she told her to, but she was beginning to see it as a bad idea. She put her face in her hands; it looked to Marco that she was praying, and refused to look up.

"Yes, Paige," he answered, putting some more of the so-called artificial potatoes on his plate.

"Well, you like children, don't you?" she asked.

"Oh my…" Dylan apparently thought this was a bad beginning, so he put his face in his hands as well. Marco, feeling awkward, looked down at his empty plate.

"Well, I suppose. I like you, don't I?" he answered her with a rhetorical question.

Paige nodded. "Well, what would you think…if I were to tell you…God, daddy…it's not as easy telling you!" she cried.

"Telling me what?" he asked, becoming increasingly more interested in the situation.

"Don't hate me!" she screamed, her emotions running wild.

"I won't. Baby, I…" he searched her face for a moment He had noticed her frequent trips to the bathroom, even asked time and time again if she felt sick because of her constantly…well, vomiting, but he hadn't thought too much of it. He shook his head. "No…"

"Daddy, I'm pregnant," she said, terrified about how he would react.

Mr. Michalchuk turned to his wife. "You still think," he asked her, "this boy has done nothing wrong?"

A/N: I had fun with this one :). Please review! It'll keep me going through midterm week!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: When I first started this, I planned it out to be really long, but now I'm not so sure. However, it doesn't matter if this one ends soon or not, there will beasequel. I already have a good idea of what's going to happen in the sequel, so yes. I hope you like this chapter. Please review:)

"Can we talk about this in the bedroom, Nate?" Mrs. Michalchuk practically begged her husband.

He sighed. "Why?" he asked. "They all know what we're going to talk about anyways. They might as well sit and here it!" he yelled, looking at his daughter.

"I will be talking to that boy," he promised her, turning back to his wife. Paige didn't say a word.

"Fine, we will continue this is the bedroom," he said.

The couple walked back to their bedroom, slamming the door behind them. Paige had expected they'd be screaming at each other, but was happy to say that the three teenagers didn't have to hear a word of the argument. However, it was still extremely awkward.

"Well," Marco started, "he…took that well," he said softly. He wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

Paige glared at him. "Perfect," she answered, kicking her foot into the nearest wall.

Dylan still hadn't risen from his chair. Marco looked over at him, biting his lip. He sat down in the chair next to him. Dylan looked up at the intrusion of his personal space. He raised an eyebrow.

"And you are?" he asked. Marco rolled his eyes.

"Marco Del Rossi," he answered automatically.

"Hm…" Dylan rubbed his chin. "Yeah, name doesn't really ring a bell. I think I used to date a guy named Marco."

It was Paige's turn to roll her eyes. "Could you two stop, please?" she asked. "Look at this!" she gestured to herself, Marco, and Dylan. She then pointed to her parents' bedroom.

"We can't give a child a family like this!" she said, apparently appalled at the thought. Dylan thought to mention that they shouldn't be being blamed because she got pregnant. However, he decided to play the understanding brother, and realized she didn't need to be told. Besides, he reminded himself, she can't help it if she's hormonal and worried about the baby.

"We'll give it the best life we can, Paige," Dylan sighed, rubbing his temples. The headache he had was definitely getting worse. He stood up.

"Please sit," Marco pretty much ordered, without realizing he'd even spoken. Dylan did as he was told. Paige laughed at the obviousness of it all. Dylan would do anything for that boy.

They sat silently in anticipation of Paige's parents coming out. Finally, they did, and Paige wanted them to go back in.

Marco had spent so long waiting for a distraction from Dylan, but he felt so uncomfortable in the presence of Paige and her parents that he needed Dylan as a distraction from that.

Marco put his hand on Paige's shoulder, smiling slightly down at her. He whispered 'good luck', grabbed Dylan's hand, almost knocked him down to the ground, and pulled him outside. Dylan didn't even protest.

As soon as they were outside, Marco could make out the sounds of Mr. Michalchuk's voice. "He put his filthy hands…" and that was the last line before he quietly closed the door.

Dylan leaned his head against his garage door, raising an eyebrow. He waited for Marco to speak.

"Well," he said softly, "how do you think your dad's going to handle it?" he asked.

Dylan pushed a stray curl out of his eyes. The cold December wind blew it right back. He laughed slightly. "I don't really know. I suppose he'll be supportive…he's angry, though," he answered.

"Yeah, but not at Paige," Marco said, laughing with him.

"Mike had better watch out," Dylan sighed.

" I remember the first time I met your dad," Marco didn't really know why they were both laughing, but it felt good. "At least, I didn't have to worry about being torn to death by the sibling of my boyfriend," he said, pushing Dylan.

"Hey, stop. I didn't scare him that badly," Dylan rubbed his forearm, pushing Marco back.

"Are you kidding, Dylan? The poor boy was shaking!" Marco pushed Dylan again, not willing to admit how much he was enjoying himself.

Dylan, stupidly standing with his foot behind him, leaning on one arm, lost his balance by the push.

Marco hadn't realized that he'd actually made Dylan fall until he was getting right back up again. Then, he laughed. Big Mistake.

"I'm going to kill you, Del Rossi."

Marco laughed as he ran (in the freezing cold weather) away from Dylan. He knew he wasn't going to make it. Dylan was way too much faster, and Marco honestly wasn't trying too hard to get away in the first place.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" he yelled. Dylan had finally caught up. He grabbed Marco around the waist, pulling him down to the ground next to him.

"Oh, really?" Dylan asked skeptically. Marco's hair had fallen all around his face. Running in the wind tends to do that to a person. Dylan pushed it behind his ear, still not taking his arm off of Marco's waist. "For what?" he asked.

The question was obviously meant to be innocent. Marco was obviously meant to respond with how he made him fall. It was also obvious that Dylan had not realized the sudden blow he gave him with that question.

For what was he sorry? Many things, of course. He was sorry for ruining everything they had. He was sorry for hurting Dylan and himself. The problem was, though, he was also sorry for being gay. How could one try so hard to change himself and…here he was…lying on the icy grass with Dylan's strong arm holding him just so far away from his body…and he couldn't do it?

He was sorry for disappointing his family, his friends at church, even Ellie back in ninth grade, Spinner, and those guys who beat him up. He was just so damn sorry and he tried to make it all BETTER for everyone…without realizing he was making it worse for the one person who never tried to change anything about him. Dylan obviously didn't care that he was gay; in fact, he had hoped for it. He also overlooked Marco's annoying obsessive-compulsive disorder and self-esteem problems.

Dylan was staring at him in an odd way. Apparently, he'd noticed the drastic change in Marco's appearance after only a second; his smile had disappeared after all the thoughts he was having.

Dylan, too, frowned. "I thought…" he whispered, removing his arm, "we were having a good time. I'm sorry. Am I too close?" he asked, slightly broken.

It took Marco a moment to realize Dylan was talking to him. "Oh! No, stay," he said, pulling him closer. Dylan looked shocked, but nodded.

"Do you think…" Marco asked slowly, "that Paige can raise this baby?"

Dylan sighed, lying his head down in the grass, despite the fact that it was cold. "I don't really know. She's only seventeen…but I suppose she'll already be eighteen when the baby is born…that's still pretty young."

Marco looked at him with worry tracing his features. Dylan leaned over and lazily dragged a finger across his cheek. "We're here for her, though. At least…I am," he said, trying to reassure him.

Marco pushed his hand away weakly. Dylan sighed. It seemed neither one of them could really speak above a whisper. "Baby, what happened to us?" he asked.

Marco looked down at his hands, not wanting Dylan to see the tears in his eyes. "I don't know, Dylan. I really don't know," he answered.

They stayed that way for a long time, just looking out into the street, and watching the cars pass by. Marco dared to lean his head onto Dylan's shoulder, and Dylan certainly didn't object, but it was getting more difficult for him to comfort a boy that was tearing his heart to pieces.

………………………………………………………………………………

"So, your opinion on the matter changed rather quickly," Marco noticed as Paige bounced around her kitchen.

After Paige and her parents were done talking, Marco and Dylan thought it would be better to just come in. Marco stayed down to talk with Paige, and Dylan went upstairs to his room.

"Oh, well, you know," she waved him off. "My dad will get over it," she said happily, rolling her eyes. Marco laughed.

"So, in other news…you and Dylan looked pretty cozy from what I could see out the window," she said, smirking.

Marco groaned. "You were watching?" he asked.

"Well, yes, when it became too difficult to listen to dad's plot to kill Mike anymore. I just started to stare at you two to pass the time."

"Well, we're not back together," he told her surely.

She nodded. "Okay, and that's because…"

"Shush, Paige, the baby might here you talking about us gays," he laughed.

She whipped him in the arm with the dishtowel. "The baby can't hear you, Marco. And, even if it could, maybe I want my baby to know there's nothing wrong with a homosexual relationship and…oh my goodness, Marco…I'm going to be a MOTHER!"

"You're just now realizing this?" he asked, surprised.

She shook her head, "No, but…think about it. Everything I just had to tell my parents. Soon, a child is going to think of me like that. A child is going to tune me out to look at something outside and…expect me to know more than I do," she said, putting her head into her hands.

Marco gently rubbed her back. "Paige, I'll tell you where you're wrong. Children, at a young age, only see perfection in their parents. They only understand that every family is the way theirs is too…so, you'll just have to teach her, with my help, that there is no 'normal' and yours is perfectly fine."

She smiled. "You'll definitely be a social worker if you're talking like this at seventeen."

He laughed. "I hope so."

"Well, I'm off to see Mike, so…" she nodded her head toward the stairs, "you could always hang here without me," she winked, walking out the door.

He waited until she was out the door and he couldn't see her anymore, then he walked up the stairs.

He walked in…without knocking, something Dylan never really required him to do when he would go over to his dorm, but since they were broken up, he felt slightly awkward after doing it.

Dylan didn't seem to mind, though. He smiled at him, but Marco could tell it wasn't really genuine. Marco smiled back as best as he could. He looked around the room.

"Do you like it at your university?" he asked suddenly. Dylan was caught off guard.

"Uh…well, yeah, I guess, but there are always disadvantages," he answered, wondering why he'd even been asked.

"Like?" Marco didn't know why, but this seemed like a safe conversation for them, and he really wanted to have one: the safest one possible.

"I thought that one would be obvious. Not seeing you. I mean, I know I can visit and all. It's not that far, but it was nice when we were in school together…even though we didn't really get close until my graduation."

Apparently, this wasn't a safe topic. "Damnit," Marco cursed, "Why does everything have to do with you and me…and—and us. Why can't everything just be like it was before I ever met you?" he screamed. He wasn't asking Dylan or even himself. Maybe he just really needed to get it out there in the open.

Dylan got off of his bed, meeting Marco at the doorway. He took his hands. "Marco, I thought there was no us," he said calmly.

Marco looked at Dylan's face. He had heard from Paige how hard Dylan was working to get him back, how he had even cried. He was the forced calmness in his features and he just wanted to get rid of it.

"Scream at me," he ordered.

"Excuse me?" Dylan asked, completely shocked.

"You want to make me happy, Dylan? Scream at me!"

"I don't want to," refused Dylan. "I'll do absolutely anything you want, as long as I don't have to do anything destructive to you."

"Dylan," Marco said, losing patience, "don't be nice to me. After everything, I so don't deserve it. Yell at me, scream at me, verbally abuse me, hell physically, if you must, but do something to make me feel even half of the pain I've been causing you."

"Weren't you the one who told me," said Dylan, "that two wrongs don't make a right? Hurting you wouldn't even make me feel better, anyway. All you have to do is take it all back, and it's gone."

"Why…I don't…baby, I can't…I'm sorry…" Marco had no idea what he was saying, but all he knew was Dylan was touching him. He was so close. He couldn't think coherently speak anymore.

There were three words; however, that no matter what happened, he'd be able to clearly say to this man.

"All I…the only thing, Dylan," he sighed, "I love you."

"And, Marco," Dylan ran his fingers through Marco's hair. "I don't care what you've done. That makes absolutely everything better," he said, kissing him.

When they decided it was important to pull back for air, Marco rested his head on Dylan's chest, and Dylan tightened his arms around his back.

"Will you stay with me now?" Dylan whispered, rubbing his back.

"I can't…I don't…going somewhere would…no, of course not, I…" Marco stumbled across his words.

"Speaking is not your friend tonight, apparently," he laughed at Marco's attempts. Thankfully, Marco laughed too.

"I know," he answered. "Dylan, I didn't mean to…I…I'm doing it again," he laughed. "I love you so much and after my dad, I don't know, I just…"

"It's okay," Dylan assured him. "You were scared."

"But you never were," Marco said, looking up into Dylan's eyes. "When you came out, it was all a breeze to you…"

"Maybe so," Dylan answered. "However, falling in love with you…was the scariest experience I ever lived through."

A/N: One more chapter to go. I can't believe it. I thought this would be so much longer lol. After this, will obviously be the last chapter. Then, the sequel is called. "And the Door Slammed," Please review! I hope you liked it!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So, I expected this story to be so much longer. However, I don't really choose lol. The story just kind of goes where it wants to go, and in this case, it wanted me to move on to a sequel after this chapter. So, I lied before. It isn't 'And the Door Slammed' because I was thinking of something entirely different. I'm such an idiot. Anyways, it is to be "Come on, Unca Dilly." I do hope you will read it. Please review!

"Was it amazing?" asked Ellie, lying down with Marco on his bedroom floor.

He laughed. "Was what amazing?" he turned to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"Well," she took a sip of her Sprite, "when you two had sex."

"What makes you think we did?" he asked, smirking. "And…when did it become your business?"

"Oh, please, you used to tell me everything. Anyways, was it?" she asked again.

He sighed. "Everything I do with him is amazing," he answered truthfully. "He means the world to me, El."

She nodded. "I want to have that."

Marco didn't answer. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to. He scooted closer to her, with his arm around her back. They laid comfortably in silence, assuming they would never get the chance to again.

"Marco," said his mother, knocking on the door.

"Well, so much for that," he got up to answer it. Ellie laughed.

"Marco," his mother repeated after the door had been opened.

"Hmm?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

"Dylan is on the phone," she handed him the phone. "Ellie, I do hope you'll excuse my son after this conversation. When Dylan's on the phone, no one else in the vicinity is important." Marco didn't appreciate her humor.

"Goodbye, mother," he pushed her out of the room.

Ellie laughed. "She is right, though."

He ignored her, choosing to move onto his bed. Ellie followed, raising an eyebrow.

'Hey, baby," he said happily. Honestly, Ellie wondered, if he was so happy about the call, couldn't he have just called him? She rolled her eyes.

Ellie moved her position so that her head was in Marco's lap. He subconsciously played with her hair while speaking to his boyfriend.

"Oh, yeah?" he said. "Well…Mhmm…sure…okay," he looked down at Ellie. "Could you grab my jacket?"

"Sure," she answered, getting up. "Wait a second…you're leaving me, hmm?"

"I'm sorry, El, but apparently, it's important,"he reasoned with her, hoping she wasn't too upset.

She shrugged and through him the jacket. "It's cool. Promise you'll tell me about it, though?" she asked.

"What?" he asked into the phone. "Dylan says 'no,'" he laughed. "Baby, I'll be there in a minute, okay? I love you, bye."

Ellie looked up at him. "So?" she asked.

"Remember when he asked me to go out with him that Friday of the first week of school?" he asked. She nodded. "Well, that's rescheduled to now, so he's obviously had to wait a while…so…"

"It's completely fine; I understand. Go, and be good. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she commanded.

"Ellie…" he started, trying to think of what to say.

"Yes?" she asked, waiting.

"I just wanted to thank you…for everything," he said, zippering his jacket. "I mean…we've been through so much together and--"

"I love you too," she smiled, kissing his cheek. "Go have fun with your man!"

He smiled, thankfully, and ran out of the house.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Marco walked slowly up the steps before coming to a stop at the front door. He took a deep breath, reaching for the doorbell. Dylan must have been waiting because he opened it before Marco even had the chance to ring.

"Hey," Dylan took his hand, leading him inside. "If I knew you were going to have to walk, I'd have driven you. I didn't think about it."

"That's okay," Marco answered, handing his jacket to Dylan who then put it in the hallway closet. Marco smiled. "I needed exercise, anyhow."

"So, what was so urgent?" asked Marco as Dylan led him to his bedroom. Since Marco was over so frequently, Paige usually referred to it as 'their room'. Dylan closed the door behind them.

Dylan walked over to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his waist in a tight hug. Marco was surprised, but leaned into him just the same. "Well, was this so urgent?" Marco laughed.

"No," Dylan muttered, letting go of his strong grip. "I just love you," he kissed him sweetly to prove his point.

Marco smiled, moving to sit down on Dylan's bed. "I love you too; you know that. That's why I'm here?" he asked, confused.

"Of course not!" he replied, allowing Marco to rest his head on his shoulder. "I actually wanted to give you something…"

After this statement, a few moments of silence passed. Marco waited patiently for Dylan to talk more about the gift, but after five minutes of nothing, he gave up.

"Well," he started, looking up at Dylan in his eyes, "can I have it?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, running to his sister's room. Marco closed his eyes in confusion and apprehension. Why did Paige have it?

He caught up with Dylan as he reached his destination. The bright pinking setting was obviously bothering Dylan, considering Marco saw his face seemingly permanently molded into disgust.

He laughed. "Bit too pink for you, hon?" he asked.

Dylan just shook his head, too busy searching the closet shelves. "Ah-hah!" So, apparently, he was triumphant in whatever he was looking for. If only Marco could figure out what IT was. And…it wasn't easy because the item was in a large bag. Were they trying to manipulate Marco?

"Alright, I kind of planned this…like…so much differently, but now, here I am, in my sister's pink room…it's not very romantic," he laughed, "but will this work for you?"

Marco raised his eyebrow. "Are…what?" he took a second to process what Dylan was saying.

Dylan sighed. "Okay, gotta make it all hard, don't you?" he laughed. "Okay, I'm totally ruining the mood."

"Marco," he started.

"Yes?" Though he was slowly grasping what might be happening, he still couldn't believe it was real. He didn't want to get his hopes up. He smiled. " Go on."

Dylan cleared his throat. "Well, I know you're probably not ready to now…but after graduation and all…and, when you're ready, I just…"

"Dylan Michalchuk nervous? I never thought I'd see the day," said Marco, as Dylan shifted from standing position to kneeling.

"Oh, know what, Del Rossi? The old-fashioned way makes me too nervous. You know what I'm going to ask you, babe, so what's it going to be?" he said, falling down onto the bed, awaiting his boyfriend's reply.

Marco sat still for a second. He knew this man was right for him. There would never be a thought of any other, right? So, why was he so scared? He would have thought Dylan would be the one afraid of commitment, not himself. Maybe that's why he was afraid! He thought Dylan wasn't ready.

"Dyl?" he asked timidly.

"Yes?" Dylan sat up excitedly.

"Well, are you positive we're ready for this?" he asked.

"No," Dylan answered honestly. "But, that's why we're not getting married tomorrow. This is more of a pre-engagement, like a promise, you know? But Marco, you have to realize you can't always be positively ready for everything. Take chances."

"I love you, and I've wanted to marry you since the day I met you at the beach, Dylan, so that's definitely a yes."

Dylan took the bag, and emptied its contents. He sighed. "Paige bought some make-up, I see, and stuff it in here."

Marco laughed. "Why did you put it in here?" he asked.

"Actually, I didn't; Paige did." At Marco's confused look, Dylan explained further. "Well, you see…I was going to ask you this at the beginning of the year, then you came out to your dad, and I was going to wait. After that, you suddenly dumped me, so in a state of self-hatred, I was going to get rid of the ring. I told Paige to hide it for me, so I wouldn't give up on you. Whenever we fought, I thought about the lonely ring in her closet…yes, I searched for it and found it weeks ago," he laughed.

Marco frowned. "I'm sorry for all I put you through…" He put his hand out, eagerly awaiting the ring to take a new home on his finger.

"So, let me do this properly now: will you marry me?" asked Dylan.

"Let me answer properly, yes."

Marco had never seen Dylan so happy by just a simple word. Dylan even asked him to stay the night, offered to cook, (something Marco was rather nervous about, and assured Dylan it was not necessary) and told him he would do anything to make Marco as happy as he made him.

"Well, Dyl," said Marco, "if we move in together, we might just have to paint the walls pink." Personally, Marco couldn't care less about color, but the look on Dylan's face was definitely worth it.

Marco was definitely happy about the idea of spending the night, but politely declined. He promised Ellie details and, since he'd been neglecting her lately for Dylan and Paige, she was going to get her details.

Ellie and Marco decided to have dinner together at The Dot to celebrate Marco's exciting news. It had been so long since they'd properly had time together, so they avoided their homes knowing they'd be bothered by pesky parents. However, they also remembered why they tended to avoid going out to eat together after a woman seated at the table next to him had informed them of what a cute couple they made.

The two didn't correct her. There was no reason to 'come out' to a woman Marco would never see again. "It's funny," Marco said.

"What is?" asked Ellie, popping a French fry in her mouth.

"How no matter how old we get, I will always be able to pose as a pretty convincing boyfriend to you."

She laughed. "That amazes me, and oh, do I remember the days well," she answered. "Those are days I don't care to repeat, boyfriend."

"And this time, neither do I. I can't even believe it, El. All of this. It happened so fast! It really seems like yesterday we went on our first date and now…I'm getting married to Dylan. It's scary," he said, sighing.

"I know, but you said it yourself, Dylan knows you better than anyone else. That first day you met, he picked you right up on his gaydar. He sees right through you…"

"Yeah, he definitely sees me."

"Yeah, and I see you are definitely going to give me one of your fries…mine are…well, they disappeared."

Marco laughed. "They're all yours. My phone's vibrating…"

"Dylan?" she asked, not needing an answer.

"Hi, baby…"

Ellie laughed, rolling her eyes. "It was nice talking to you, Marco."

A/N: The End! I hope you liked it. I wasn't too happy with this chapter! Was it terrible? Please review!


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